


The Longest Con

by Darklady



Category: White Collar
Genre: Crack, Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 02:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darklady/pseuds/Darklady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can con an honest man - you just need an honest con.<br/>or<br/>So Neal Caffrey wants the best for Peter and Elizabeth. And how do you THINK he is going to go about getting it for them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Longest Con

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this came from.  
> Really - I should have sent it back and asked for a better Muse.

“Congratulations, Deputy Director Burke.”

Attorney General Crawley was hogging the photo op. Just as well, Neal granted. Peter always looked sadly wide in black and white. The flat image removed the power and energy and left only the square boxyness of an indifferently tailored suit.

“The promotion is an honor.”

“A well earned one, given how you connected those twenty years of art thefts.”

A story which explained – more than the boring paraded of politicians – the large press turnout. Spring a story of hidden codes, secret murders, and globe-spanning conspiracy and everyone from the Times to the Enquirer would clamber to publish every detail.

“An incredible piece of work, Director Burke.” CNN started off the rush of press questions. “However did you work it out?”

Neal smiled at Peter’s carefully modest answer, one that gave credit to all the significant agencies, and so soothed the ranks of professionally sore toes. One that tactically downplayed the real actors, such as Neal himself.

Incredible was indeed the word. In truth it had been one careless snatch and grab by a junior curator with a habit that had burned out everything but desperation and a dealer foolish enough to think priceless meant valuable. The first had overdosed on his ‘down payment’ and the second died in a shooting less an assassination than a fortuitous (for Neal) industrial accident.

“Do you think breaking this case was the reason for your promotion?” Fox, getting it backwards.

Peter being up for promotion had inspired Neal's 'resolution' to the case. The theft was nothing. Just one more stupid crime in a statistical procession. Crimes no more linked by the theft of paintings than bank heists were made a conspiracy by the consistent presence of money.

But? NBC didn’t lead with stories like that. FBI agents didn’t build legends by solving one insignificant crime after another. Art recovery consultants didn’t' collect big checks when the lost art could have been recovered within hours had any of the inside idiot’s co-workers bothered to check the company email.

Con men spun narratives. Narrative made the legend. And legends? Politicians clung to legends like shipwrecked sailors to driftwood.

“How do you think your appointment will affect the FBI? 

Neal slid back, easing Elizabeth forward. She was beautiful tonight. She was always beautiful, but more so in the new sapphires. Half his substantial recovery fee, even via Moz’s ‘wholesale’ purchase, but worth every penny. Only her eyes sparkled brighter. Most of all, she was the other half of the perfect picture. The storybook image of dedicated husband and devoted wife.

“Will there be more emphasis on non-traditional teams?” 

The press loved that story too; swallowing the sweet concoction of a criminal had ‘cured’ by his connection to the Burkes, like a Victorian drunkard reformed by the love of a good woman? Not that he didn’t love Peter and Elizabeth. Not that he didn’t want the best – the very best – for them. Neal had always been generous in his love, and finding lovers deserving had only made him more dedicated. 

What it had not made him was... he shuddered at the word... honest. 

“Do you plan to being your consultant team with you to DC?”

That was his cue to fade from the picture. 

Neal moved easily, making time to connect with the curators and collectors who flocked around him, offering money and dreaming that he might magically recover the rest of the ‘masterminds’ stolen treasure. Buying the idea a mythological Moriarty shield to their self-image from the reality of disgruntled servants and dishonest children and the petty squabbling connivance of the human mess.

It was as Neal had always known.

The art of the con was in selling what the mark wanted to buy.

©KKR 2014


End file.
